Memento
by Carlyn Roth
Summary: (Resolved: Part IV) A year of shared love has changed Kathryn and Chakotay— and their crew— for the better. It has transformed them into a family. This corresponds to events in final chapter of "Far From Their Bones."


**A/N:** A little something happy and satisfying for us to enjoy together before we start delving into the plot-twisting, canon-defying darkness of an alternate Year of Hell for "Collective."

Thanks so much for all of your support as I grow into my writing!

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 **Memento**

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She caught the bouquet.

The reality of the moment took its sweet time sinking into Kathryn Janeway's mind. The crew immediately began tittering with laughter, whispering comments, and offering applause as their captain stood there, shocked and dumbfounded at this turn of events. Her face burned as red as her dress uniform; her hands clutched at the stems of the flowers that Lon Suder had grown specifically for the occasion—his way of showing gratitude towards the only counselor who had been able to help him.

To Kathryn's left, B'Elanna Torres laughed and clapped her hands. Tuvok stood silently off to the side of the crowd, donning his usual Vulcan stoicism, though underneath there was a hint of teasing in his eyes that Kathryn knew he meant for her to see. She glanced over to see Tom Paris jovially slap Chakotay on the back. Her first officer's dimples bore deeper into his cheeks than ever before as he smiled affectionately at her. After sharing their brief, but intimate, exchange of glances, Kathryn turned her gaze away from his and back up to the front—just in time to meet the bride's eyes.

Eelo Talia had pivoted back to take in the results of her bouquet toss, which had been initiated by the small half-Ktarian child who was still perched on her shoulders. The child, Naomi Wildman, squealed with unrestrained little-girl delight, clapping her tiny hands above Talia's carefully pinned copper-red tresses. "Capt'n Janeway caught my flowers, Talla!" she cried, practically bouncing with glee.

"She did, didn't she?" replied the bride to the child, and a new wave of laughter arose from among the gathered crew. Talia gave Kathryn a warm and reassuring smile. After all of the counselor's subtle machinations behind the start of Kathryn's relationship with Chakotay, she had entirely backed off since that session discussing New Earth. Even now, a full year later, she made no judgements and put no pressure on Kathryn to say anything. It was simply joy that Kathryn found in the young woman's smile, as if she were storing the image away in her mind like a treasured memento.

Kathryn, too, was carefully memorizing this special day, taking notice of the little moments of joy all around her as the crowd began to disperse throughout the room to mingle. Harry Kim was drawn again to his new wife's side and offered Naomi a proud high-five. Samantha Wildman approached to lower her daughter from Talia's shoulders, giving the newlyweds each a tight squeeze before leading the child away. Then, Harry tugged his beloved into his arms and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. It was memories like this that Kathryn leaned on when times got hard, or when that ever-persistent guilt began creeping again into her soul.

For all the things that had gone wrong, the love her crew had developed for one another was one thing that had gone wonderfully right. Kathryn wasn't simply a captain to these people, nor was she just another in a line of privileged Starfleet lapdogs bent on throwing the Maquis into prison for defending their homes. No, she was the leader of a family. True, they respected the hierarchy. They called her Captain, saw her as their captain, and would immediately follow each and every order she issued without question. They were professionals, after all. But, peel back that layer, and one would find endless depths of community and—dare she think it—love underneath.

Just then, two strong arms enveloped her from behind, breaking her out of her reverie. She smiled, dropped her head back onto Chakotay's chest, and sighed happily. His hands trailed down along her sleeves, making their way to the flowers still clutched in her hands, and she felt him smile against her cheek. No, the word "marriage" wouldn't cross either of their lips that night, regardless of what jokes their crew made. But, for the rest of the evening, they never left each other's sides.

Late into the night—after the crew had seen the newlyweds off to their holodeck honeymoon and the reception had dispersed—their formal tunics and pressed slacks cooled in a rumpled heap on the floor as the heat of Chakotay's skin pressed over and under hers.

Every night, he slept beside her. The smell of him was burned into her sheets. It had settled into her upholstery, and it hung from her walls. It permeated her very skin. His touch in the night could set her ablaze just as easily as it could soothe her soul. She always wanted him to be there, even if it was only to tuck her up against his chest and brace her while she slept. Not a single morning arrived without his lips on hers, kissing her awake. Not a single night fell without her tracing his dimples with her fingers and reminding him of her love.

The change had long been taking shape between them. For months, he'd occupied a drawer in her dresser and a shelf in her bathroom. But, after Harry and Talia's wedding, it became all but official. Kathryn knew it. Soon enough, her senior officers knew it. Chakotay never spoke a word, always allowing her the final say, even as more of his things found their way into her quarters.

 _Their quarters._

Neither did she say anything of it to anyone. Someday, perhaps, they might update the ship's records to reflect the shift, but she didn't want to rock the boat. There was something deeply comforting about their arrangement. Even when he wasn't there, his scent and presence lingered, and it pushed back the loneliness that had once threatened to swallow her whole. He lived there, in her space and in her heart, and she didn't turn him away. He had become as natural to her daily life as her right arm was to her body, and she would just as soon rip that appendage from herself as she would push away from their easy intimacy.

Kathryn kept the bouquet. Together, she and Chakotay used the flowers to create art for their quarters—a treasured memento of love.


End file.
